I’ve experimented with several different kinds of homemade energy bar recipes, but these are the only ones worthy of offering to others. They’re basically a mix of cereal/fruit/nut stuck together with nut butter and rice syrup. I started with this recipe from The Vegan Delicious blog. You might be able to skip the baking step, but it helps the bars hold together.

• 1/2 c. almond butter
• 1/2 c. rice syrup
• 1/2 c. Perky’s Nutty Flax Cereal
• 1/2 c. puffed millet
• 1/3 c. toasted pecans
• 1/3 c. dried blueberries
• 1/4 c. dried cherries
• 1/3 c. raisins
• 1/3 c. chopped dates
• 1/3 c. chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease 9×13 or 8×8 baking pan with coconut oil. Pan size doesn’t really matter. You’ll have thicker bars with a smaller pan. Mix almond butter and rice syrup. Add cereal and coat well. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Use a metal spatula to press mixture into pan. Bake for 5-10 min. Remove from oven and use spatula to further compress bars. Press the mixture into the pan well. Otherwise you’ll have crumbles instead of bars. Allow to cool and cut.

This is my favorite dessert and post workout recovery snack. It has a good carb:protein ration and takes about 1 minute to prepare!

1. Pour frozen blueberries into bowl
2. Spoon Whole Soy Co yogurt over blueberries
3. Sprinkle with diced, raw organic almonds (in the bulk section at Vitamin Cottage)

If you have time, and you really want to make this special, set the bowl with frozen blueberries on the counter for 5-10 minutes before adding yogurt.

Any flavor of Whole Soy Co. yogurt is good. I usually choose vanilla. In the USA, the only good vegan yogurt I’ve found is Whole Soy Co. It has a great, creamy texture, not at all gelatinous. Of the others I’ve tried, only Silk is even edible. But comparing Silk to Whole Soy Co. is like comparing lemon Jello^® to Ciao Bella lemon sorbet.

You can try other fruit too. Frozen cherries are the best, but they seem to have been unavailable for several months. Toasted pecans are a good alternative to almonds and especially yummy with cherries.

I knew when I registered that finishing HooDoo 500 in 50 hours as a Voyager would be difficult. I’m not fast enough to have much cushion for problems that seem to always arise during an ultra event. Also, in the last year, my ability to ride all night without sleep has drastically declined. I anticipated that my riding time would be 40-46 hours so things would have to go nearly perfectly to have any time for sleep within 50 hours.

I did extra bike prep; new cables, tires, rear derailleur. I even replaced my bottom bracket having read that the failure of that part caused tandem riders Pat and Charlie Jenkins to DNF in 2009. Being sick the week before the ride kept me home that weekend, and gave me some extra time to plan and reorganize my drop bags so I’d be able to change clothes and quickly get food and gear needed for each section without having to waste time thinking about it at stops.

I’d learned from my rides in Oklahoma, in temps up to 114F, that on the third day of riding in the heat I was able to deal with it much better. So my plan was to arrive in St George on Wednesday afternoon, do an easy ride that day and another on Thursday afternoon. Riding in the heat helped not only to acclimate me, but to give me a better sense of how my body reacted to the heat.

I sure hadn’t expected much rain in southern Utah in August, but fortunately I’d learned during High Country 1200 that I could ride in the rain without me or my bike melting, and gained some confidence in what clothes I needed to stay warm if it rained at altitude.

I woke a few minutes late on Friday morning. There was a problem with my phone alarm. Fortunately I’d set the hotel alarm clock as a backup. I checked out and headed toward the start line at the front of the hotel about 10 minutes ’til 5 AM along with the last few Voyagers. At “Go,” I dropped off the back to go my own pace, not wanting to waste energy in the “race” that always tends to happen at the start.

I am pretty sure the wind blows from the south and west more than 50% of the time in this part of the world, but Friday morning, as we headed east to Kanab, it was, of course, blowing right into us. The wind wasn’t terrifically strong, but I’d guessed that Friday, when the route went east and north, was our best hope for some time saving tailwind. As Murphy’s Law would have it, shortly before I made the left turn a few miles before Kanab, the wind changed direction and started blowing from the north.

En route to Saint George Wednesday, I’d made a visit to Laid Back Larry’s, the Kanab Time Station. It’s a great little store with vegan lunch, but I saw they had limited services and it would waste too much time to order food there during the race. I also knew I’d need most of a bag of ice to fill my bottles and Camelbak so I stopped at a gas station before I checked in at TS1 to use the bathroom and get ice.

There are plenty of places along the first two sections to get water, but I’d decided to carry my (much despised) Camelbak the entire ride because it saves time to stop less frequently. Even with the Camelbak, the heat after Kanab forced me to stop near Orderville, and again at the intersection of 89/14, for more ice. There were rain clouds ahead. For once, I was hoping it would rain, and it did, for about 20 miles near Hatch.

The Red Canyon Bicycle Trail along Highway 12, was one of the highlights of the ride. It’s not very long, but definitely worth stopping and getting your bike out of the car if you’re a cyclist and in the area. The scenery is stunning and the pavement is beautiful.

At TS2 in Bryce it was raining lightly again and I felt cool standing at the exposed summit. I put on light arm warmers for the descent, guessing a jacket would be too warm once I lost a little altitude. The descent to Cannonville was fun and fast, followed by a nice climb into Capitol Reef National Park. Not long after dark I arrived at TS3 Escalante.

When I’d first looked at the HooDoo route, I thought the best plan for me would be to take a nap in Escalante and again in Panguitch. In the meantime, I’d grown increasingly nervous about the 50 hour time limit. So, even though I’d made good time up to that point and calculated that I could take about 6 hours of sleep time at my current pace, I decided to press onto Loa. That turned out to be a big mistake. I spent one of the most miserable nights of my life struggling up Boulder Mountain. My knees felt unusually good and my legs felt better than I’d have expected at that point in the ride, but I was very nauseous. I’m not sure what caused it. Maybe some combination of the day’s heat, drinking too much water, sleep deprivation, and the soup I’d eaten in Escalante not agreeing with my stomach. Between stopping to puke, I tried riding slowly, walking, sitting and lying on the side of the road to try to let my stomach settle. A mile or two from the summit, I thought there was no way I’d be able to finish the ride and decided to stop and rest until I felt better, then I’d make my way to Loa and figure out how to get back to Saint George. I lay down on a rock and started shivering. So, I pulled out my required emergency bivy bag, that I’d imagined would NEVER be used, and crawled in. After a few minutes the sky started to lighten and a pickup drove into the pull out. I just lay there half hoping they would come offer to drive me to Loa.

The rock was pretty comfortable, but after a few minutes more I was ready to continue. I managed to stuff my now uncompressed bivy back into my bag. One of the sportsmen from the pickup came over to ask if I was OK. While I was talking to him, I saw Kurt Searvogel drive by in his van. It’s a good thing he didn’t see me. If he’d stopped to ask how I was at that moment I would probably have asked him if he could give me a lift to Loa.

I was glad the sun was up when I started the descent. There were lots of cows on the road and many deer flitting across so the going was slow. I stopped at the grocery store as I rode into Loa and finally checked into TS4 about 1.5 hours later than than my slowest estimate. At that point, I hadn’t eaten anything that stayed down in about 16 hours. I figured there was still an outside chance I could finish and decided I’d try to eat and sleep a little in Loa and see if I could go on.

I lay down for only a few minutes without falling asleep and decided if I was going I needed to get on the road. The longer I waited the hotter and windier it would be and sleepiness wouldn’t be a big problem during the day. The climb from Loa reminded me of climbing Holman Hill from Mora towards Taos, only much shorter and not as steep. That was followed by a very short, fast descent to Koosharem Where I stopped for ice and food.

I felt awful, my throat and sinuses were sore from being sick the night before. The wind was picking up, and what should have been a fast, mostly downhill, 70 miles to Panguitch was a struggle against the blast furnace. I kept thinking of John Ellis’ quote about there being a bad part of every long ride, but this bad part was lasting a really long time.

I probably should have left as soon as I arrived in Panquitch, but my main motivation for riding there was the promise of a nap. Again I couldn’t sleep and started worrying about time. I got up and started getting ready figuring if I was going to go, I should leave early enough that if things went well I’d have a possibility of finishing in time. I’d have only 11 hours and 10:15 was the very fastest I thought I could ride the last 144 miles, but I still had my “finish” soundtrack in reserve and the wind seemed to have died down for the day. I changed clothes, got my gear together, and as I was rolling my bike away from the hotel at 9:00 PM, Tom walked out of the Time Station, handed me his phone and asked me to talk to the race director. She asked me to wait until morning to leave. She didn’t think it was worth the risk of a steep descent with of wildlife on the road since I was unlikely to finish within the 50 hour time limit. In one sense it was a disappointment, not to know how fast I could finish, but it was also a relief. I hadn’t slept in 42 hours.

When I left at 4:15 on Sunday morning it was sprinkling, but I thought the rain was just ending, not just beginning. As it turned out I was riding up the mountain into a rain storm and a (surprise) headwind. I knew that at home, a similar climate, the rain nearly always stops by sunrise. The effort of climbing was keeping me warm enough so I kept on through the rain. Shortly after sunrise I made it to the summit of Cedar Breaks. From there is a screaming descent to Cedar City. Unlike Boulder Mountain there weren’t cows or wildlife on or near the roadway, and it was better protected with barriers. A rock slide was starting about halfway down, but I went through in the one clear lane and didn’t stick around to see what happened.

The descent from Cedar Breaks was a blast! I arrived at the Cedar City at 9:30 and loaded up with ice. I could already tell it was going to be hot and the wind was picking up. I was able to bypass Newcastle and stopped for more ice at Enterprise hoping I could get to the finish without having to stop again so I could make it in under 12 hours. Snow Canyon was another beautiful, fast descent. It was a very hot day near Saint George, but most of the remaining miles were downhill and I still had cool water in my Camelbak. I arrived at the finish at 3:45 Sunday afternoon, 8 hours and 45 minutes hors delai.

Photos near Snow Canyon

Because I was riding without a follow crew, I started two hours earlier than the other solo riders. That had some advantages. I paced myself better in the first section, arriving at Medina a few minutes slower than 2010. I enjoyed the climbs on the way to Leakey accompanied by much less motorcycle traffic. I’d kept my stops brief, and though I made a big error by not refilling water bottles at Camp Wood, my time to Rock Springs was a little faster than 2010, and I’d gotten through the hottest part of the route before the day’s high temperature hit.

After Rock Springs, stopping to resupply at time stations, as compared to my super-efficient 2010 crew, started really affecting my time. I was gradually, but unalterably, falling behind last year’s pace.

I’d planned to stop for a sleep break at Llano to make sure I was awake enough to continue alone, and was off my bike there for a total of 4 hours. I felt good for the windy, 30-mile, ascent to Fredericksburg and kept up a decent pace on the bike. The sun rose soon after I turned onto Old San Antonio Road and it was nice to see the scenery I’d missed riding this section in the dark last year.

The climbs to Kendalia seemed much easier; probably due as much as anything to knowing the route and expecting rollers all the way to the end. Edge Falls Road was a peaceful respite before 17 miles of heavy traffic on 3551.

I loved the hills and luxuriously, smooth pavement on Cross Mountain Road. Once at the top, I emptied the tank and pedaled hard on the last few miles to the finish.

As always, George Thomas, hosted a fun, well-organized event. Hill Country 600 is a nice spring ride and a good way to start the season!

Had it not been so foggy, wet and overcast, it would have been a beautiful fall day. The colors on the ~1500 ft climb on the Indian Highway over the Kiamichi Mountains were gorgeous. The problem was I could barely see 50 yards in front of me. The photos look even more dull. It was a little clearer on the twisty descent, which I had to take pretty slowly because of the wet, leaf-covered pavement.

Most of the route is on rural roads with little traffic. The exception is Highway 63 from Tahlihina, where a Harley Armada nearly removed my left elbow. OK-2 also has a fair amount of traffic, and it appeared half the state of Texas had spent the weekend in Oklahoma and were returning home on Sunday afternoon.

Antlers, OK 200k Permanent from Cathy Cramer on Vimeo.

“Search for BigFoot” 200k Permanent. Shot 1 frame every 2s. Playback is 24fps.

In spite of the previous day’s 200k ride, I felt surprisingly good on Sunday morning. By the 7:00am start in Manitou Springs the sun was shining and I left my arm warmers in the car. I hesitated, remembering I’d worn my jersey with very large back pockets just so I’d have room for things like that, and thinking that the temps might be considerably colder on the mountain, but decided I’d be working hard so I’d stay warm. I started at the very back of the pack with nearly all 260+ riders in front of me because I didn’t want to sprint off the start line, and it’s motivating for me to work my way past other riders. We quickly hit steeper grades when leaving Manitou and heading onto Highway 24 and I was spinning easily in my 24.5 inch low gear.

It was a beautiful morning and a beautiful ride with no vehicles on the road other than those associated with the race. Before Glen Cove we arrived at the two and a half mile unpaved stretch and the wind started to pick up. Oh yeah, wind. I’d been expecting high winds on the ride, but hadn’t given it much thought for the first 15 miles. After Glen Cove we started up switchbacks and the wind got stronger. In fact, the wind seemed to increase in ferocity the entire way up, then strangely, at the summit, it was relatively calm. The race summary on OutThere.com reported the wind speed as 30-45mph. I would have guessed in the 20′s, but I’m not good at estimating since the wind speeds recorded in my area seem to be measured from some calmer-than-average spot and I do not own an anemometer. Needless to say the windchill felt significantly colder than the predicted high 40′s-50 degree temperature and I was wishing for my arm warmers. Since I didn’t bring them I had a good reason to stay on my bike and keep moving.

Although I live at 9000 feet, and regularly ride up to 10,000, I know from the years I was training for ultraruns and frequently went up to 12,500 feet, that above 12,000 feet things start getting weird for me. Once I saw the sign for 12,000+ feet elevation, I started paying more attention to my heart rate and stayed just below 80%. Actually I found the altitude a little easier to deal with on my bike than hiking, probably because I was sitting down. Still between the wind, the exposed mountain road with no guard rail, and lower oxygen levels it was a bit surreal. I was anxious to get to the top and get my drop bag with warm clothes, but kept a moderate pace, knowing if I pushed too hard and had to stop, I’d be even colder.

The summit seemed to come quickly. Although in reality a lot of time passed climbing at such a slow speed. My official time was 3:54. I’d hoped to finish in under 4 hours so I was happy. I found my drop bag, bundled up and started back down. The first few thousand feet of the descent were the only part of the ride I did not enjoy. Hopefully I will get to bike up Pikes Peak again. It was a really nice way to spend the morning!

Photo gallery of the event.

There were a number of challenged athletes participating in the 2010 Assault on Pikes Peak, including the handcyclist pictured here. Yes, he rode all the way to the top!! Several were disable veterans of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I’m raising money for the Challenged Athletes Foundation in conjunction with riding Furnace Creek 508. If you’d like to help these and other disabled athletes you can donate here.

Hill Junkie wrote a far more dramatic and interesting report about Pikes Peak with photos! I don’t agree that there were any 13% grades on the ride, but with the headwind the 8-10% sections felt much steeper. He also discusses the electric bikes that were used by several riders. I think Pikes Peak offered a good demonstration of the capabilities of electric bikes, but as far as the results, all electric bikes should probably be treated as a separate division.

Last year’s ERock was the first race of any kind I’d ever won so it was odd for me to be in the position of having other racers wanting to “beat” me. While I do prefer winning to not, I always set my goals for a race independent of other riders. I don’t want to feel like my goal is out-of-reach before the start if say, Kristin Armstrong decides to come out of retirement and try her legs at ultracycling. It’s important for me to have a goal that is both challenging and attainable. I need a target that can motivate me even if I’m out classed by the field or if no other riders show up. I’d finished 25 laps in 2009. My goal for this year was 29 laps…actually it was originally 27, then 28, then a few weeks before the race I thought I had an outside chance at getting 29.

The women’s field was much stronger this year than last. Six solo women started, as opposed to four in 2009. The sixth place woman rode one more lap than the second place woman in 2009. Optic Nerve sponsored XC rider, Kim Godfrey, finished second. Elizabeth Boese who’s started focusing on 12 and 24 hour MTB races and posting some good results, finished third. I was also impressed with the 4th place woman, who rode continuously for 24 hours with only short breaks, and finished her last lap during the last hour. I have great respect for someone with the inner will to get out there for one final lap when it makes no difference in the overall results. I’ve only managed it once in five 24-hour MTB races.

The race begins with a Le Mans start. That means running. If I could still run without hip pain I’d probably not be biking so much, and if I wanted to run with a bike I’d do cyclocross. I tried to line up out-of-the-way, as close to the front as possible, planning to run/walk only fast enough to get me to the bike mounting area not too far behind the next-to-last racer.

The first few laps I was going too hard and was trying to ratchet back my effort on the climb. After a couple laps, Jen told me I was in second by a few minutes, and I said something brilliant like, “I’m not going to catch her by riding faster.” Meaning I didn’t think I had as much speed as some of the other women so I’d need to make up time in other ways. I was pretty surprised when I passed Elizabeth after a few more laps. I think it was all due to Jen, who was crewing me. It was so windy last year that we’d decided not to bother with a tent and crew from her s.u.v. in the parking lot. She set an alarm to meet me beside the trail after each lap with fresh batteries and bottles and we were doing fairly fast pit stops. I have no doubt that Jen’s work during the race was worth at least two laps.

I’ve done most of my training on my road bike this year, which meant I had plenty of pedal revolutions in my legs, but almost no time on my mountain bike. I think my longest mountain bike ride since Targhee, last August, was 1.5 hours. And I’d only ridden that long once. Halfway through the race my butt was uncomfortable, but my hands and arms were hurting so much I did not see how I’d be able to continue for 12 more hours. Near the end of the race, I was reminded of ultrarunner Ann Trason’s quote, “It hurts up to a point and then it doesn’t get any worse.” My hands and arms still hurt, but not any worse. And my neck and shoulders felt a little better.

By the time I’d finished 21 laps, about 16 hours into the race, I’d built up a bit of a lead, and it was a good thing. During the 21st lap I’d started feeling very dizzy and by the end of the lap I felt like I was going to pass out. I signaled Jen to meet me at the car. I laid down and tried to figure out what was wrong. My symptoms were similar to the time I’d gotten hyponatremia at Barr Trail Mountain Race (how I managed that during a 13 mile run is another story) so I thought I might have had too much water. Then Jen said, “I’ve only used one gallon of water and a half bag of ice.” I hadn’t drunk all of that. That meant I’d had less than 10 ounces of fluid per hour. Even for me, mostly riding at night, that was not enough water. I drank some plain water, took a couple more Endurolytes, and felt a little better after a few minutes. After about a 30 minute break, I headed back out, but I was very conscious of keeping my effort relaxed and drinking lots of fluid. I felt better, but I had to stop and pee on every one of my last seven laps.

Jen had more confidence than I. I didn’t know until after the race that after my first lap she’d predicted on her Facebook page that I’d meet my goal of 29 laps. Between laps 16 and 25 I thought there was no way I’d come close. I was just slogging away, one lap at a time.

I’m guessing this really was my last mountain bike race. If for no other reason than I don’t expect my 20 year-old Kona with the patched together Marzocchi Z2 Bomber to survive another 24-hour race. In fact I was pretty surprised to get through this race with no major mechanical failures.

ERock is a fun, smoothly organized event. I was especially happy to see more solo women out there challenging themselves and doing strong rides!

Some good photos of the race by ultrarob. More ERock photos by camrewop.

Prior to this my longest brevet was 300k. I’ve finished longer races; Tejas 500 (miles) and Hill Country 600k. The difference is that an ultracycling race includes race support staff and often each racer has a personal support crew. I had crew for both those events. A brevet, on the other hand, is an unsupported ride. Each rider is responsible for understanding where along the route they can resupply and for carrying what they’ll need. If you have a mechanical or physical problem you figure out how to fix it or hitch a ride back to your car … or phone a friend. But if you think it’s inconvenient to ask someone to drive 10 miles to come pick you up, how about 100 miles!? That would not be unusually far for a rider that has to DNF a brevet.

I haven’t been feeling particularly zippy for the past … oh, month maybe, so my plan was to manage my effort and just get through this last of six brevets in six weeks. I was surprised that the little group of riders started fairly conservatively, but I dropped off the back after 30 min or so, still warming up and not wanting to push it on the rollers. The sun was starting to come up as I left Brighton and the westerly ride was beautiful on the green spring morning. As I rolled into Lyons, the wind was just starting to show signs of the predicted ferocity.

It’s a nice, long, gradual climb to Wind River Pass from Lyons. It’s only 40 miles to Estes Park, and two water bottles will often get me twice that far. I hadn’t planned on the wind increasing my thirst, or calculated the extra time the 4000′ climb would add. All of which meant that 14 miles out of Lyons I was already very low on water. I went off-route at Allenspark hoping for a store, but instead found Crystal Springs! The refreshment was worth the extra half mile. I filled my bottles with ice-cold water and drank another half bottle while I was standing there.

I’d never been to Estes Park before and dropping down into the valley from the south is beautiful! I stopped at the KOA again for more water. Then headed across the valley for the ride down Devil’s Gulch Switchbacks. This entire stretch through Glen Haven, Drake and out Big Thompson Canyon is very scenic. There was A LOT of traffic, but I’m guessing it was a little heavier than usual because another road between Drake and Estes Park was closed.

I was surprised when the route took us by a little reservoir we passed during the Stove Prairie 200k. I had no idea it was nearby. I was starting to feel pretty warm and was looking forward to stopping in Masonville for some nice cold water and ice. Unfortunately all the water in Masonville was warm and there was no ice, but I refilled my bottles and soaked my shirt and headband for some extra cooling and headed on for Horsetooth Dam.

After another stop in Ft. Collins, for yet more water. I have to say the ride got a lot less fun for me after Ft. Collins. I began to question why I was out there and why I’d ever want to do another long ride again! For one thing the wind was stronger out on the plains. And the howling wind, whether from the front, side, or rear, was abrading my nerves. And, while the beauty of the green fields was not lost on me, passing stinky feedlot after stinky feedlot quickly gets tiring (and depressing) to this vegan.

I’d planned to make a quick turnaround after the 400k, but when I got back to my hotel room about 9:30pm, I was too exhausted and sleepy to do anything more than take a shower and go to bed. I thought about DNF’ing, but remembered all the times I’ve wondered why someone would DNF when they still have 10 hours (or, in this case, over 20 hours) to finish, and decided not to make any decision about the last 200k. After I’d been lying in bed (not much sleeping) for about 90 min, I felt refreshed and suddenly motivated to get out there and knock out the rest of the ride.

Back out on the road it was nice. There was little traffic and the wind was calm. I made some routing errors and rode a few extra miles; a combination of not being able to read the tiny print on the cue sheet well and not seeing some road signs in the dark. I’d underdressed and stopped in Miliken to get some coffee and get out of the cold for a few minutes. I put on every stitch of clothing I had with me, unsure if it would be enough; amused at myself because I’m usually so afraid of being cold that I carry enough extra clothing to keep myself and two other people warm. Once I got moving again the light jacket with hood seemed to be just right. By the time I got to Kersey at 4:30am the sky was already starting to lighten. More green fields, more stinky feedlots, a fun descent into Erie, up the rollers to South Boulder Road, across Via Appia and check “done” next to 600k brevet.

So here is a summary of a few of the tips I’ve found:

• Stay low – Sit up – Yep, some people say stay low, others say sit up. My own experience is that in crosswinds sitting up is better. Someone suggested that sitting up leaves more “holes” for the wind to blow through, whereas when you’re compact there’s larger solid surface to blow against. If you’re riding fast it may help to stay low. In headwinds, stay low.
• Go fast – Go slow - Seems to be disagreement on this one too. Logically, it seems one would be more stable at high speeds. However, I’ve found that I feel more stable at lower speeds. Maybe like sitting up, going slower creates less solid (to the wind) area and more holes; i.e. when you are going fast you create a larger air surface in your direction of travel and perpendicular to side winds.
• No aero rims and spokes - This one is consistent. In crosswinds high profile rims and bladed spokes, especially on your front wheel, just give winds a place to grab onto and pull the wheel off line.
• Training in wind makes you a stronger, better rider - Believing this is a psychological trick that seems to help.
• Relax – Probably the most important. Staying relaxed helps you absorb wind gusts rather than transmitting them to your bike; and you are usually the largest surface area on your bike. This one really became apparent to me one day when I was training in the wind and meet up with a friend who was also braving the conditions. When we were riding together chatting I was less aware of the wind. The next day, riding alone in gentler wind, I was more tense and the wind seemed more scary.

I often seem to be riding with my rear panniers when it’s windy. I look forward to the trip home when they’re loaded up … the heavier the better. The extra weight more than compensates for the surface area of the panniers and my bike feels a lot more stable.

Got any advice for riding in the wind? Please post them to the comments section.